


Maybe

by httpstiles



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Attempted Kidnapping, Hurt Stiles, Hurt/Comfort, Rogue Hunters, post season 3B, pre-Sterek - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-31
Updated: 2014-01-31
Packaged: 2018-01-10 16:21:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1161901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/httpstiles/pseuds/httpstiles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He wasn't expecting rogue hunters to break into his house while his dad worked the night shift and he was home alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Maybe

**Author's Note:**

> I did this while I was half awake and I honestly didn't recall ever finishing it once if started, but I like the end product so here it is.

The night is calm; it's rare these days and Stiles enjoys it. His window is open, so he can hear frogs croaking, crickets, feel the breeze, and hear airplanes in the sky. For a small town, there's a lot of lights, so the stars aren't all that clear, but this time of night, just past 2:00 am, he can see all that he needs to out the window; all that he needs to calm him. 

Yesterday had been a particularly stressful day. There hadn't been anything in specific that rested on his shoulders, just everything adding up. Worrying over how he did on his Algebra 2 test was something, not completing his lab packet was another. (But in his defense no one was able to finish the damn packet.)

 

There's a coyote cry in the distance and Stiles reminisces on the harder days. To this day, Malia still remained a good friend and he was okay with that. 

In fact, he was more than content with his life at the moment. He was back to worrying over regular teen stuff. 

 

But he wasn't expecting rogue hunters to break into his house while his dad worked the night shift and he was home alone. 

 

Stiles leapt for his phone on his bed and rolled off in the same movement to lock his door. Placing furniture behind the door was his only choice, while he called for Scott. He started with the nightstand, easy to move without noise, but not the easiest to move. 

Scott barely answered as he went for his desk. 

"What's wrong?"

"I'm like 99% sure there are hunters in my house right now." Through the door, Stiles hears a thud-clank noise and gas flows in from under it. 

"Okay there are definitely hunters here. Come quick. I'm going out the window."

"Stil-," Stiles turns the volume down and shoves the phone in his pocket. His head spins and the gas is tainting the air. 

He's half way out the window when a shot breaks through the door and hits the wall in front of his face. 

He moves as fast as he can and by the time he's lowering himself from the roof, to the side fence, two large guys are running out of the house. Deciding its safer to go toward the backyard than the front, he steps onto the trash cans and as quietly as possible, gets off those and sprints. He jumps his own fence and stumbles down the short hill side and into the edge of the woods. It's a mile from the preserve and two more away from Hale property. 

When he's on his feet again, he realizes he's barefoot and has three cuts on his arms from the journey down. Stiles takes this moment to pull the phone out of his pocket. The screen lights again at his touch and he turns the volume to one. 

"Stiles?! What the hell was that? Isaac and I are on the way, he's called Derek and Allison and Chris already."

"I'm in the woods going toward the preserve. They were all over my house and in the front I had to take the back route." 

"Are you okay?" 

"I'm a little light headed from whatever gas that was, and I'm barefoot, but I should survive." 

"Shit, Stiles. We'll meet you at the edge of the preserve. Move fast. Please, be careful." 

"Yeah, yeah, now you're back in my pocket because I have to run."

He shoves the phone into his pocket and takes off, running through the mud and twigs that are mixed across the ground. 

 

There's a thick sound of a gun that rings through the air and from his right he sees a flashlight... and then he sees two more. 

"Shit shit shit."

He picks up speed and looks around every few moments to make sure there's no one in sight. 

 

But no one in sight doesn't mean no one's there. 

 

He stops for a second, doing a 360 degree view before resting against a tree for a second. When he pushes off to move again, he gets tackled down.

He lets out shouts, letting Scott know he's in trouble through his phone, before his face gets slammed down into dirt and rocks.

Rope wraps around his wrists behind his back and then another pair of arms pull him up.

He faces three people, two men and a woman, not counting the one behind him. 

The same rope connecting his wrists wrap around his waist and the guy pulls them tight. He grits his teeth, unwilling to show fear. 

"And you have yourself a human, one point for Slytherin. Now what is your grand plan? Don't you guys have a code?"

"It doesn't protect the humans." The man from behind steps in front and makes a loop around the rope by his stomach. He gives a harsh tug and Stiles lurches forward. He balances himself out before he can face plant and glares. 

"I'm not some animal that you can put on a leash. In retrospect, no animals should be put on a leash."

"Someone shut him up," the girl complains. 

"I'm just say-," a fist connects with his face and busts his lip. 

"I mean a gag you nitwit."

"We don't have one, nitwit." Wow, oh great, he's stuck with immature kids. The two are obviously brother and sister and be wonders how families even raise their children like this because this is inhumane. 

"Use the god damn rope." One of the men behind the girl cuts off a piece from the "leash".

"Hey no, that's just cruel-," the rope wraps around his mouth as he speaks and tightens around the back. 

"See? What did I fucking say?" 

"Oh shut the hell up, you two. We need to go before the animals come and fuck everything up." 

There's one hunter that still hasn't spoken and he grabs hold of the rope and tugs on Stiles, pulling him forward. 

 

They're walking at a fast pace and Stiles is struggling to walk straight, still barefoot and he's pretty sure he has 52 splinters. 

There's a howl in the distance and it's close enough to be able to tell its Scott (because Scott's howl is closer to a gigantic growl). He screams between the gag and pulls back on the rope. The guys holding it lets go, wincing at the burn and Stiles turns to run. He runs about 20 feet before he sees Derek a bit away. He shouts and shouts the best he can around the rope and then gets cut off as a hunter reaches him. Derek howls (he knows it's Derek because his is loud- he's right there- and sounds the most like an actual wolf) and the pack reacts from all around, howling. He hears an odd noise and spots two small creatures taking out the hunters that fell behind. The flashlight lets him see gray and orange; Malia and Kira. 

"God you're a feisty fucker." The guy pulls him to his feet and puts a gun up to Stiles' head. "Shout again." The breath in his ear is uncomfortable and he involuntarily shakes. "Now you and I are going to go the opposite the way together and I won't shoot." Stiles nods, then throws his head back into the guy's nose. There's a crack and Stiles runs again. The gag is loosening and he uses his tongue to push it out as much as he can. It slides down to his neck and he calls it a win. 

"Scott! Derek!" He runs again, this time in the direction Derek came from. He's not there anymore and instead there's a clearing. 

Then there's two. 

Shit. 

No, no, no, no. Stiles blinks and takes a few deep breathes before looking again. His vision is blurred, but it's back to seeing one.  

"Hey." Stiles turns to the sound of the voice. "Come here." The voice sounds soothing, but he backs away from the false security. He shakes his head and steps back. "I'm not going to hurt you, just walk toward me." 

"No," his voice sounds weaker than two minutes ago. 

"You little shit," the voice is still calm. "Why make me work, huh kid?" Stiles can't find the energy to reply. His knees shake under his weight. (Probably the test on his shoulders pressing down). 

"Fuck wad," he hisses. A hand reaches out and grips his neck. It pulls him forward and he sees a truck. "Get in." The guy lifts him and tries to shove him in the back seat, but Stiles' feet press against the door frame. 

"Scott! Derek! Isaac!" His energy is out. 

 

The sound of the truck engine echoes in his ear. The sound of driving does not. 

Sitting up best he can, he peers through the window. The driver's seat is empty and Scott is right outside.

 

The rope burn is definitely something to add on to all his other pain. His barefoot-ness and the aches through his body leave him (literally) in the arms of Derek. Scott's helping a limping Isaac because his leg broke and healed wrong, and Kira has already taken Malia to Deaton. 

"Go Team Werewolf," Stiles mutters, head bobbing with each step that Derek takes. 

"Don't waste your energy, Stiles."

"It's already all gone."

"Then stop talking." There's silence as Scott separates, taking Isaac on his dirt bike, and Derek continuing to walk to his car. 

"Why me?" His heart tugs at the small boy. 

Maybe it's the leaves in his hair, or the fact the he's covered in mud in his pajamas, and maybe it could be the fact that he's got scrapes and rope burns along with splinters littering his feet with blood, but Derek is pretty sure it's the fact that he's fragile and human, he's pretty sure that that's it and that's why he feels the tug. 

 

Once he's changed into some oversized clothes from Scott, and sitting bandaged on the exam table in front of everyone, his dad comes rushing in. He hugs him tight, but Stiles winces. Sheriff pulls away to see the bruises on his neck. His face screws up into anger and Stiles reaches to rest his hand on top of his dad's, pulling his hand away from his neck. He sees the bandages on his wrists then and he lets out a heavy sigh.  

"Stiles," 

"Don't. Not right now." He pulls his hand away and lets out a shaky breath. "Let's go home okay?" His dad nods and helps Stiles to stand. His feet are wrapped now and infection free of splinters.

 

If Derek creeps outside the window that night, no one has to know. 


End file.
